Photo Albums

Noteworthy Photography

Burning Flags PressThe website of Glen E. Friedman. Renowned for both his work with musicians like Fugazi, Minor Threat, Public Enemy, the Beastie Boys, Slayer (and many, many more) as well as his groundbreaking documentation of the burgeoning skateboard phenomenon in the late `70's, Glen has been privvy to (and has summarily captured on film) some of the coolest stuff ever. He's also an incredibly insightful and nice guy to boot.

SoHo Blues - Photography by Allan TannenbaumAllan Tannenbaum is a local photographer who has been everywhere and shot everything, from members of Blondie hanging out at the Mudd Club through the collapsing towers of the World Trade Center on September 11th. You could spend hours on this site, and I have.

Robert Otter PhotographsAmazing vintage photographs of New York City, specifically my own neighborhood, Greenwich Village.

Big Laughs

The Weblog of Spumco's John K.The weblog of cartoonist John Kricfalusi, crazed mind and frantic pencil behind the original "Ren & Stimpy," as well as "The Goddamn George Liquor Show." Surreal, unapologetic, uncompromising genius.

September 29, 2017

Easily as far back as this blog has been running (12 years, as of this past July), and invariablly for some years prior to that, whenever a once-cherished neighborhood institution, long-running bar and/or lovingly curated mom’n’pop shop was excised from the streetscape over unreasonably spiralling rents, the popular refrain from change-wary and gentrification-weary local residents was “it’ll probably become a bank, a Starbucks or a CVS.” In those instances when something other than one of those three depressing options sprouted up in the footprint of the former local favorite, the inevitable rejoinder was then akin to “hey, at least it’s not a bank, a Starbucks or a CVS!”

It was a common utterance because it had becme so true. In 2017, there indeed are too many bank branches. There are WAY too many fucking Starbucks. There are too many CVS’s. I don’t mean to single out CVS, here… ther are also way too many Duane Reades and too many goddamn Wallgreens, but you doubtlessly get my point. In much the same way we don’t need another TD Bank outlet or another place to pay handsomely for some inarguably burnt-tasting coffee, we don’t need another location for a pharmaceutical chain. Feel free to click your tonuges and write me off as another hopeless NYC nostalgist, but you know damn wellI’m not wrong on this point.

More recently, however, I’ve noticed another option that has joined the legions of banks, drug-store chains and Starbucks outlets as unwieldy limbs of the tireless hydra of homogenization that is gradually devouring New York City, and their proliferation is almost overtaking their afore-mentioned predecessors.

I don’t mean to knock anyone’s attempts to get healthy and better themselves, but if you’re so fucking dead-set on fucking fitness, why not walk the extra couple of blocks to an already existing one of these temples of perspiration?

April 29, 2015

Regular readers may remember a bold series of entries I posted last year under the promising category title, “The Big Runaround.” Prompted by factors of advancing age, neglected health and a desperate initiative to inject a little bit of focussed discipline into a life recently rocked by sudden job-loss and multiple deaths in the family, I started a regimen of running. It seemed like all I could do.

Over the course of the next few months, I brought myself up to speed, streamlined my approach, augmented my routine and was beginning to hit my stride, so to speak. Almost on cue, however, I started developing a pain below my right knee. Not wanting to risk seriously injuring myself, I sharply curtailed my running in the hopes that the pain would subside.

In tandem with the knee pain, I’d also started to feel an old familiar pain in my shoulders flare up again (invariably due to stress). With these two complaints in mind, I started visiting a chiropractor, who swiftly deduced that I was suffering a bit of misalignment (although, truthfully, no one’s perfectly aligned) and that I was putting an inordinate amount of my weight on my right side, which might explain the pressure I was feeling below my right knee.

As a result, I started going in for regular adjustments and traction in the hopes of lessening some of my misalignment issues. This also involved orthotics in my regular walking shoes and, once again, the determination to properly update my running shoes.

Now that winter’s over (….right? Is it safe to say that yet?) and spring hath sprung, I believe I am ready to get back to my running regimen.

I’ve gotten the green light from the doctor, but I’m still a little concerned about my knee. I mean, at my age, it seems like no matter what I do, it might just be too late for my knees.

That all said, I am positively pining to reclaim the peace of mind that running was providing. I realize that sounds awfully melodramatic, but it’s easily been one of the most turbulent periods of my life.

It’s now been ten long months since I was actively employed. I am fortunate enough to currently be in talks with a few specific outlets, but momentum is hard to sustain, and I continue to wait for a solid offer from the right situation. If you know me personally, you know that I am always in something of a state of alert, but being stuck in the round-the-clock state of worry that has basically consumed my life has taken a toll. The runs helped combat that. When I couldn’t run anymore, it all closed in again.

Intent on getting back to it, I checked into my local Super Runners over on the western end of 14th Street today. Not wanting to simply pull a random pair off of a shelf at Foot Locker, I decided to spend a little extra — hopefully not in vain — for a more professionally-assessed fit. I walked out of there with a frankly ludicrous looking pair of new, customized Asics (see above).

While these shoes may indeed be stridently at odds with my own dubious fashion sense, I really don’t give a crap how they look. As long as they fit, responsibly support my feet and enable me to run, I’m good with them.

February 04, 2015

Here’s a post that ought to handily amplify why most of the content here on Flaming Pablum pertains to the past, given that current doings are either cripplingly banal or worryingly grim. But such is life in 2015.

As I’ve mentioned a couple of times in passing over recent months, I am currently in the uncomfortable position of being between jobs. I’m endeavoring to extricate myself from this situation, but suffice to say, it’s a process that is taking some time. I’ve had some near-misses, I’m exploring new leads and looking forward to some hopefully fruitful chats in the coming days, but —again — these things don’t happen overnight. Or at least not to me.

In the interim, though, I’ve been understandably scaling back on expenditures. About two months ago, I managed to somehow lose my cherished pair of black Ray Ban sunglasses. I thought they’d turn up around the apartment, but they simply haven’t. While I was quite attached to them — given an ultimately minor anomaly on my physiognomy, I am generally vain and petty enough to not want to be photographed without sunglasses on — I can’t justify springing for another pair just yet. They’re important to me … but not essential. Similarly, after injuring my knee from running earlier this year, I’d intended to replace my pre-9/11-era pair of running shoes with some newer ones…but those, too, can wait. I should really only be spending on what’s absolutely necessary.

Today, however, I had to succumb. While I was dearly hoping they were going to survive another season, it seems my once-trusty pair of industrial “Ironbridge” boots from Dr. Marten have waved the white flag. That's them in healthier days in the pictures above -- both curiously taken by my former colleague Drew, who evidently found said footwear photogenic. They were kinda nice, though.

After about eight years of rigorous winter wear and tear, the soles have become troublingly porous. Should I step into a puddle of a specific depth, my double-socked heels feel the unmistakable caress of frost. While I confess to enjoying their needlessly clunky, battered look (somewhere between vintage GBH and John Bender in “The Breakfast Club”), the boots are no longer up to the task of keeping my feet dry and warm.

A new pair was needed. And with more snow and ice expected in the next couple of days, that new pair was needed now!

Now, despite my ever-advancing age, I am still prone to some stubborn hang-ups. In my aggrieved state of arrested sartorial development, I still bow to the need to dress like my favorite bands. As such, I eschewed the notions of procuring a pair of “duck shoes” from L.L. Bean (despite their sterling reputation, I shan’t go with anything that preppy) or Timberlands (I will never be hip-hop enough for those) and went right back to the well. For their seamless blend of both function and fashion, I ponied up for another pair of Dr. Marten's industrial “Ironbridges” (in basic black, of course…not counting the signature yellow stitching).

As up to combating cold weather conditions as they are of cultivating Cold War kool (to my mind, at least), my new boots seem freakishly huge. Half-a-size larger than my actual feet (Dr. Marten doesn’t acknowledge half-sized appendages), when I walk in them, I feel a bit like a member of KISS….or, Mr. Heavyfoot. But they are strong, sturdy and ready for action.

I may be at a crossroads. I may have some difficult decisions to make. I may be ensnared in a complicated and unenviable vocational situation at the moment. But, I'm ready for the weather.

December 28, 2014

At the risk of sounding cryptic, melodramatic and needlessly alliterative, 2014 left me feeling helpless, humbled, humiliated and heartbroken. As far as I’m concerned, it cannot end soon enough. I’m not foolish enough to assert that 2015 will be better, but I have hopes that it might heal the wounds and lift the curse that was this year. Time will tell.

1. What did you do in 2014 that you'd never done before?Buy a headstone.

2. Did you keep your New Year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?I’ve pretty much lost faith in resolutions. It’s not that I don’t believe in endeavoring to make positive changes, it's just that I’m no longer going to make them all contingent to some vague, annual promise to myself.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?Some friends had babies, yes, but no one in my immediate orbit.

4. Did anyone close to you die?Yes, my mother-in-law and my step father both left us this year in fairly quick succession.

5. What countries did you visit?Didn't

6. What would you like to have in 2015 that you lacked in 2014?Gainful employment of the sort I was stripped of in July 2014.

7. What date from 2014 will remain etched upon your memory?Honestly speaking, there were several notable dates, but I’d rather not have any bit of 2014 etched on my memory.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?Getting through it.

9. What was your biggest failure?Losing my job.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?I didn’t, no, but certain individuals very close to me continue to.

11. What was the best thing you bought?A replacement pair of my contraband Nike Dunk-Low Black `n Tans.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?My friends who showed me unconditional support in some very dark times.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?Some former colleagues, although circumstances conspired against us all, I suppose. Maybe I’m being too charitable.

14. Where did most of your money go?COBRA and tuition.

15. What did you get really, really excited about?I found myself getting really excited — in a negative way — about a few things. In a positive way, I was quite excited about my running regimen, until I hurt my knee. That said, I will return to it.

16. What song will always remind you of 2014?I cannot say that music played as major a role in my life this year, as I was otherwise quite distracted.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you happier or sadder?Much sadder.

27. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?Yes, but it’s not healthy to dwell on it.

28. What was the best book you read?I was particularly engrossed by Peter Bebergal’s “Season of the Witch: How the Occult Saved Rock and Roll."

29. What was your greatest musical discovery?Didn’t do much music-discovering. Spent some time re-examining the back catalogs of some of my favorite artists. That said, when I did finally manage to check out the still-appallingly-named Eagulls, I fell entirely in love with their debut album. Great, great stuff.

30. What did you want and get? Nothing springs to mind.

31. What did you want and not get?A new job and….the answer to an ongoing problem.

32. What were your favorite films of this year?Hated “Boyhood.” Underwhelmed by “Birdman.” Left indifferent by “Gone Girl.” I’d say “Mr. Peabody and Sherman” was the best new film I saw.

33. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?47, and spent it at home with my wife and kids.

34. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?Not losing my job. Not losing a couple of loved ones. Some other things.

35. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2014?There was no concept.

36. What kept you sane?I was not kept sane.

37. What celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?None.

38. What political issue stirred you the most?I was honestly distracted by other things.

39. Who did you miss?John E. Newman and Mary Boulos.

40. Who was the best new person you met?I can’t say I remember that many new folks this year.

41. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2014Don’t ever imagine that it cannot get worse. It always can.

November 19, 2014

In our last painful episode, you'll remember I'd been sidelined from my running regimen by the sudden appearance of a sharpening, persistent ache under my right knee. Not being a "fight through the pain" type of guy, I took this as sign from my aging body that I needed to cease running immediately. I wasn't happy about it, but I didn't think it was wise to ignore it.

That was back in September. I figured I'd lay off the knee for a week or two until the pain subsided. I also thought it would be prudent to invest in a new pair of running shoes, being that the New Balance ones I'd been using dated back to the balmy days of the Clinton Administration. Regardless, I was determined that I was going to get back on the horse, so to speak.

But, as it so often does, life got in the way. Before I knew it, I was swept up in daily doings, tackling other projects, picking up some freelance work and concentrating on my job search (if you haven't figured it out by now, I've been out of work since early July). The more time went on, the more I started finding other legitimate excuses not to factor running back into my life. I was -- and remain -- concerned about that.

If you've ever been suddenly out of work, you know how stressful it can be. Suffice to say, my situation has been no exception. Presumably as a result, I started feeling increasingly tense -- not just mentally and emotionally, but physically -- awakening a long-dormant problem I had in my upper back that first revealed itself in the early 90's. As such, I'd started going with increasing frequency to get massages at one of those Asian nail salons on Broadway, but I was finding that this was a problem that was out of their jurisdiction. It was time to go to a chiropractor.

Today, I ducked into the office of a chiropractor in the East Village my wife had used a year or so ago. I explained my whole deal -- alluding to both my back problem from the 90's, my running problem and the stresses that currently conspire against me. He gave me a full examination -- complete with an x-ray -- and immediately noticed that I'm suffering from a somewhat pronounced misalignment, causing me to put more of my weight on my right leg....a condition that could easily explain the stress on my knee.

I'm slated to go back in next week after he's had time to examine my x-rays, but I'm hoping I'll be able to take steps soon to get back into some running shoes and back out there.

September 25, 2014

It’s Thursday afternoon, and the pain in my knee that definitively revealed itself on Sunday morning is not only showing no signs of going away, it seems to be intensifying (or maybe that’s just because it’s a grim, rainy day). Either way, it’s still very much with me.

Following conventional wisdom, once the pain started, I immediately stopped running. Consensus suggested that I should “rest.” Well, I haven’t been running, but I’m still walking around, and the nagging ache in my right knee is really starting to worry me. I’d been hoping it’d have dissipated by now, but no dice.

In discussing it further with friends of mine and folks who are more knowledgable than I about running (which is pretty much everybody), most seem to agree that the cause of my pain is probably the increased mileage, coupled with my sloppy form and a likely deficiency in core strength, but my friend Keith pointed a vengeful, accusatory finger at my New Balance running shoes. Being that I initially bought them back in the early 2000’s, or maybe even the late 90’s — who remembers? — they’re probably not as up to the task as they might have once been. I’m planing on investing in a new pair — hopefully ones specially prescribed by some professionals — once my knee feels better.

In the interim, though, I’m feeling deficient. Granted, I’m usually feeling guilty about one thing or another, but after roughly two and a half months of running, this hiatus feels like another failure. How did I manage to botch something that seemed so simple? Maybe it’s just not as simple as I envisioned.

There’s got to be a way to get back on track — literally and figuratively.

September 22, 2014

"I kinda like the freedom of just wearing sneaks, jogging shorts and a t-shirt.”

I made the above declaration back in July, and while it’s still true — I do like that freedom — it doesn’t really apply anymore, as I’ve started to accrue — *shudder* — “running gear.”

Initially wanting to be able to gauge my progress, I took to bringing my iPhone along with me. The stopwatch function on same let me know how long it was taking me to wearily complete my runs. More recently, after I decided to get a bit more serious and increase my runs to twenty-minute sessions, I decided that music would probably help me, so I started bringing my precious 160 GB iPod Classic. In the wake of revealing that, however, a concerned reader named Greg sagely advised that I might not want to do that, as “the disk inside can get damaged from too much bumping around. Best to use a shuffle or something else with a flash drive."

Being that they’ve since discontinued the iPod Classic (and I’ve been thus far unsuccessful in procuring a sealed back-up for when my current one dies), I thought this was prudent advice. As such, I went ahead and got myself a purple iPod Nano.

Even though it’s a comparatively lightweight device (it’s the width of a Trisket for chrissakes), it still carries a hefty amount of music *AND* comes equipped with specially tailored fitness functionality. I just plug in my height and my weight, set it for a twenty-minute run, and it actually gives me progress reports through my headphones as I’m trudging along.

I was initially skeptical, but it’s pretty great. I loaded it up with a slew of quick-tempo’d tunes and it’s made a world of difference. Set on shuffle, I kicked off the other morning scored by “Aces High” by Iron Maiden, which segued into “Nuclear Boy” by Killing Joke (which matched my stride perfectly) which was followed by “Sleepless” by King Crimson, then into “A Promise” by the Violent Femmes and culminating with the splenetic sprint of “We Bite” by the Misfits. Wrapped up in the music, and always anticipating what song was going to come next, I didn’t find myself worrying about how much time I’d spent or had left. The Nano would tell me in five minute intervals how I was doing. It was all working out perfectly.

Well, it was working out perfectly, I should say, until the pain started.

After only a few days of running in these more intensified sessions, I started to feel a little wobblier in the knees. I hadn’t fallen or banged me my leg into anything, but I was started to feel a dull-but-insistent ache just below my right kneecap. Yesterday morning, even though I wasn’t feeling totally great, I dutifully suited up for my AM run, only to swiftly curtail it a few minutes in. The pain in my knee was too distinct to ignore. As I’ve suggested in the past, I’m not out to punish myself — the moment something feels wrong, I’m wise enough to interpret the signal my body is sending. And this signal was coming through loud and clear.

A term used to describe a number of knee issues, runner's knee often occurs because of an increase in mileage. While some harriers will experience sporadic pain, others have problems nearly every time they add miles. The condition can also be related to poor running form and core strength.

Sounds like someone’s got my number. Being that I am indeed experiencing the pain in the wake of increasing my mileage and that — not to sound too self-deprecating — I'm doubtlessly practicing poor running form and probably boast lamentable core strength, it seems like this is indeed the issue I’m grappling with.

Regretfully, I’ve since decided to take a few days off from running to see if this pain will subside. I also invested in a pair of Future knee support braces. I’m disconcerted and discouraged by the development, but I’m convinced there has to be a way around it. I’m just kind of amazed it’s happening already.

September 17, 2014

I had lunch with one of my former editors recently, an incredibly smart and refreshingly no-bullshit kinda guy that, for the purposes of this narrative, I’ll call Nick.

Nick has a knack for bursting bubbles with straight talk. It’s not that he means to shoot down fanciful notions, it’s just that he’s gifted at providing a sobering dose of practical logic that usually lands with the explosive, eye-opening force of a scud missile. On more than a few occasions, Nick has unwittingly supplied some stark clarity to my perspective. It’s not that he’s unsympathetic to my seeming multitude of plights, it’s just that Nick — somewhat ironically, for an editor — disregards his own inner editor, and speaks his mind without the filter of what some might call sensitivity.

In any case, I met with Nick initially to talk about my current vocational status, but ended up having a broader discussion about the trajectory of my life at the moment. As such, we touched on the subject of my running. I gave him the whole weepy backstory, appending the details of my incremental progress in terms of laps and distance that — up until that very moment — seemed to be leaving a positive impression on the folks I’d spoken to about it.

In typical fashion, Nick broke it down. “Listen,” he said, “it’s not about laps. And what you’re doing nowisn’t going to make that much of a dent. If you want to get anywhere with this, you’ve got to run for about twenty minutes a day. Don’t worry about laps. Run for ten minutes in one direction, then turn around and run ten minutes back. That’s what I do. Otherwise, you’re really kinda wasting your time."

Like I said, straight talk.

I got the feeling, though, that — characteristic bluntness aside — Nick had a point. While my running was feeling like a step in the right direction, I didn’t really feel like I was genuinely pushing myself. I would do my lap and a half (or whatever) and just wind back down. At the end of my runs, I was sweaty, but I was no longer feeling true exertion, and I certainly wasn’t feeling any endorphin-fueled runner’s high (although I’m not sure I ever really will). I decided that, much like in so many other facets of my life at the moment, I really need to step it up if I’m going to get anything done.

The next morning, after dropping my kids off at school, I sped back home, donned my running gear and set out for Washington Square Park again. After some quick stretches, I started running, thinking about what Nick had said. After making it around the Park twice at a decent pace, I felt something weird. I looked down and noticed one of my running shoes had become untied. Looking at the stopwatch on my iPhone, I then noticed that I’d only really been running for about thirteen minutes. I was tired and suddenly distracted. I wasn’t going to make it to twenty minutes. I wound down into a walk and panted my way home in a brow-furrowing fog of self-disappointment. I’ve got to do better.

This morning, however, I was determined. Again, after dutifully depositing my kids at school, I made it back home, slugged down a cup of coffee (good idea before running? That’s another topic), jumped into my running stuff and off I went.

This time, in the hopes of getting my mind off of laps and whatnot, I decided to leave my iPhone at home and grabbed my iPod. As I’ve said in previous posts, I’d been eschewing music on my runs, but now it seemed like something that could genuinely help get my mind where it needed to be. It was time, again, to do this right.

I should take a moment here to point out that while I’m taking Nick’s words to heart, I don’t necessarily consider those words gospel. While I’m indeed endeavoring to step up my performance, so to speak, I’m fully aware of my own limitations. While I do want to run for twenty minutes at a go, the moment I feel pain of any kind, I’m going to stop. I’m determined, but rest assured — I’m not entirely stupid.

Anyway, I dialed up Fear of Music by Talking Heads on my beloved 160 GB iPod Classic (since criminally discontinued — fuck you, Apple!), correctly assuming that the insistent pulse of tracks like “I Zimbra,” “Life During Wartime” and “Air” would inspire and propel me around Washington Square. Trying hard not to think about the distance and progress I was making, I believe I really hit my stride during “Cities,” pairing David Byrne’s nervous delivery (….SOMETIMES I’M A LITTLE FREAKED OUT indeed) with the rhythmic urgency of my pace. Almost totally absorbed in the music, I actually lost track of how many laps I did, concentrating more on the thwomp of Tina Weymouth’s bass guitar. Before I knew it, I looked at my watch and realized I’d been running for eighteen minutes. By the end of another song, I was done and downshifted into a walk.

Probably not since my first awkward run back in July, I felt that strangely positive springy sensation in my legs. I was tired — and, sorry, a good deal sweatier than usual, but it all felt good.

I was feeling a bit remiss in my updates about my newfangled fitness initiative, but -- honestly -- there hasn't been all that much to tell. I started running back in mid-July primarily as a means of combatting my increasingly less-than-healthy lifestyle, but also as a way of finding focus, direction and clarity. This year started out poorly for me and has gotten successively worse as the months have rolled on. That hasn't stopped. Since I started running, my family weathered another blow, that being the death of my step-father in mid-August. The painful process of dealing with that loss -- and the logistical demands that accompany a death in the family -- have only strengthened my resolve. I don't just want to keep running, I positively need to keep running.

That all said, now that summer's over, there are new obstacles. I'd gotten a bit spoiled after spending much of my summer in Quogue. My morning runs out there found me slogging around a comparatively idyllic country block. Sure, it was a bit larger than Washington Square Park (the distance from start to finish on my Quogue route initially took me about ten minutes to complete ... shaved down to eight and a half minutes by early September), but I'd settled into a nice routine. Now that I'm back in NYC, it's back to Washington Square Park.

But the Park itself isn't my problem. My problem is that I'm on drop-off duty. As the responsibilities have shaken down, my wife usually makes the kids' lunches and takes care of their breakfast (I'm still largely all thumbs in the kitchen), while it's my gig to get them dressed, out the door and to school on time. That may sound simple, but if you've ever tried to wrangle an eight- and ten-year-old into executing these tasks with any semblance of efficiency, you know it can be a taller order than it seems.

Anyway, as a result of this, while I'd been toying with the idea of squeezing my runs in before these morning duties, I was finding that a bit complicated to pull off. As such, I'm now doing my run after I get back from the school drop-off detail. That's not a huge deal, but it means I'm not getting it done until about 9:00 AM or so.

By this point in the morning, Washington Square Park in September isn't the unpopulated garden of silence and solace that it is two hours earlier. Nope, running around it at this hour means ducking and weaving and wading through any number of obstacles -- foremost among them herds of the NYU student body, a sprawling demographic of disdainfully youthful human cattle, all decked out in pre-tattered flannel and "Cool Story Bro" tees. My curmudgeonly ire notwithstanding, it's still ultimately their turf. As much as I lament the NYU kids' return to the neighborhood at the end of every summer, the irritation they provide me is my own damn fault for choosing to live off of University Place. Thus, I puff, pant and awkwardly plod around the perfectly tanned, toned and tirelessly exposed young midriffs of the co-eds during my lap-and-a-half around the Park.

About a week back, I was engaged in a spirited discussion about running with my cousin, and he spoke with such certainty and zeal about the endorphin rush that results from certain increments of exertion, he being an accomplished runner himself. I just had to nod and feign understanding. It's not that I don't feel good after running, but I've yet to harness that natural high I keep hearing about. Again, I'd probably do well to curtail more excesses in my diet to make a more meaningful amount of progress, but it's the commitment to the physicality of running that keeps driving me.

Even though I don't run every day, on the days I don't do it, I feel a compulsion to compensate. I skipped a run yesterday, as I had to make a trip up to my late step-father's home in Connecticut. On the train ride home, I got off at the Harlem 125th Street stop -- and walked home to our apartment in the Village.

I haven't mastered it all yet, but I'll get there. I don't know if I'll ever feel comfortable really calling myself a runner. I don't know that I'd ever feel confident in my abilities to try a half-marathon, as my afore-cited cousin encouraged me to do. I don't know that this will ever feel normal, or if I will ever feel normal again.

July 30, 2014

I'm not quite sure why I'm citing that it's "Day 16" here, as my intention is to make running part of my routine indefinitely. But, it's still early days, of course.

So, yeah, a little over two weeks later, I'm still at it. The ache in my thighs has largely subsided (thanks, no doubt, to stretching). It still feels "weird" and, well, "wrong" every time I start the process in the mornings, as if to suggest that my body is still not totally down with my fitness initiative, but who knows if that'll ever change?

The curve ball is that I'm now spending more time out on Long Island at my mother's place in Quogue. At the risk of being coy, I have a lot more free time these days. That said, I've been endeavoring to get up bright and early (usually before Charlotte, but not before Oliver -- the earliest riser in the family) to put my foot to the pavement at the start of the day. Thus far, it's been a good means of jump-starting the morning.

I haven't been running every day. I try to go at least three times a week, if possible. I've been struck by a crippling bout of allergies in recent days, so I skipped this morning's slog. And instead of Washington Square Park, I'm now trudging around my mom's block here in Quogue's leafily genteel byways. This block is a bit larger than Washington Square. My lap in the city normally takes me about six minutes, while this block takes me about ten. That's a good thing. I'm hoping to increase it to maybe two laps at some point, but -- again -- one step at a time.

I still need to curtail my diet a bit if I'm going to make any meaningful change, but at the very least, running is helping me stay focused in, frankly, what has turned into a period of chaos. For that alone, I'm going to stick with it.